


What a night.

by DomesticatedFeral



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Blood and Injury, Derek Hale Has a Crush on Stiles Stilinski, Gay Bar, Homophobia, Human Hale Family, M/M, Mutual Pining, New York, Police Brutality, Sarcastic Stiles Stilinski, and because i lowkey love writing stories that take place in the past, but its lowkey, but y'know it's there, curse words, inspired by The Boys In The Band movie, not a lot, quite a lot but not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticatedFeral/pseuds/DomesticatedFeral
Summary: “Damn, what a night. What a fucking hell of a night that was,” Stiles couldn’t help but say.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 26





	What a night.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a thing that I wrote during this big month of NaNoWriMo (that is completed)  
> anyhoo, this was written shortly after watching The Boys In The Band on Netflix and also because of a recurring dream I had of Sterek set in the 1960s.  
> hope you like it because I had so much fun writing it :D

New York, February 28th of 1968.

It was Saturday, Stiles was on his way to a gay bar, he wore a skirt, flashy eyeshadow, and lipstick with his slightly wavy hair curled and tousled up. He reaches the gay bar that he frequented with a brisk ten-minute walk, the bouncer opens the door and he struts in.

Inside, music was playing, drinks were being served and Stiles spotted very handsome men he’d fancy.

He goes up to the bar and orders tequila shots, he drinks them up and goes to the dance floor. Dancing to the hottest songs coming from the radio, Stiles was joined by a man, they danced together until Stiles needed more drinks.

He sits down at the bar once again, using a tissue to dab sweat away, being careful to not smear his makeup which he spent a lot of time on. He drinks more shots and then orders an old fashioned cocktail.

He sits down at the seating and listens to the music as he sips on the cocktail. It was maybe twelve or one in the middle of the night now. He didn’t wear his watch, and even though it clashes with his outfit, he regrets that he didn’t.

Suddenly, he hears banging on the bar’s door.

“Police, open up!”

Stiles’ heartbeat rose up, he quickly stood up from his seat and went to the usual escape route he’d take from a back door. The police had barricaded it, they were trapped.

_ ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.’  _ Stiles internally panicked, his breath quick and shallow as the police came in.

A police officer came and tried to hold Stiles, he immediately moved away, it was the same officer from last time, the same man who frisked Stiles way too much. He had enough of these raids happening, it wasn’t like they were disturbing anyone.

Before Stiles could think his next move through, another police officer comes from behind and holds him. Stiles elbows him in the side of the rib and they stumble backward.

_ ‘Oh no, what did I just now do?’  _ Stiles gasps, realizing what was going to happen next.

The other officer, the one who Stiles feared tackles him to the ground and starts hitting him with a baton. Someone throws a beer bottle towards the wall and it shatters, sending pieces of glass at Stiles and the police officer.

He felt pieces of glass pierce his head and neck as he stood up. He needs to flee the place before all hell breaks loose. He is able to run out of the bar and begins walking back home. His back hurt after some time so he sat down on a bench to recuperate before walking the rest of the way home. Something cold trickles down the back of his ear and he touches it with his fingers. He looks at his fingers to find blood smeared at the tips.

_ ‘Damn it, someone just had to throw a beer bottle huh?’ _

Someone comes up and places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, making him jerk a little. Stiles looks up from his blood-smeared fingers and notices the clothing the man was wearing all dark, black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

“Are you alright?”

“Well, except for the pieces of glass in my head and my back bruised up by being beaten with a baton, I’m just peachy,” Stiles looks up at the mysterious man who had approached him.

He looked intimidating, the essence of a bike rider with the slight scruff, the lean but muscular build, and the gorgeous hazel green eyes that glinted under the yellow streetlight.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Thanks, I haven’t noticed,” Stiles sarcastically said, slowly standing back up.

“You need medical attention, and my house is right there,” Derek points to a house that was two houses away, “my sister’s a nurse in practice. She can help you.”

“Thanks, but how do I know that you’re not one of those homophobes who’s gonna take me to your dingy house’s basement to torture and kill, then later end up in a ditch covered in trash bags?”

“Because I’m not?”

Stiles’ mind was going off with deja vu at this random stranger, he was intimidating but Stiles felt like he’d seen him from somewhere before. Somewhere meaning the gay bar he was just at.

“Have you ever went to the gay bar before?”

“I work there. I was out for a smoke break out back when the police raid happened. I sorta fled the area, till I saw you sitting here.”

“Like a damsel in distress? Oh please, you can’t be my knight in shining armor when you run away like a cunt back there.”

“You escaped too.”

“After getting tackled, beaten, and pierced by pieces of broken glass,” Stiles let out a whimper at the pain panging through from his back as he moved slightly.

“You’re hurt and I want to help you. Especially because I know you won’t be going to the hospital tonight.”

“Hey, how could you assume that?”

“Because you sure as hell won’t.”

Stiles sighs, he needed medical attention before he bleeds out, and this guy seemed pretty genuine to help, “fine, let’s go to your nurse sister.”

Derek walks with Stiles to his house and he unlocks the door.

“Laura, get your first-aid kit.”

“Raid at the bar again? What happened this time, Derek? Was it harsh?”

“Not me, I brought someone, they need help.”

“I’m, um, Stiles by the way,” Stiles mutters to Derek.

Laura comes down from the staircase holding a red bag with a white cross on it. Derek gestures to Stiles to sit down on a chair backward. Stiles rests his arm on the top of the backrest and tries to ignore the ticklish and cold sensation of blood trickling down his neck and side of the face.

Laura puts the first aid kit on the coffee table and looks at Stiles’ scalp, noticing the blood and pieces of glass. She also notices red blotches on Stiles’ neck, fresh bruises she guesses.

“There’s a lot of glass in the scalp and cuts, um, it’ll be hard to treat the cuts with, y’know,” Laura faltered.

“With all my hair in the way, I sorta had the feeling that it would, well, I guess I could rock a buzzcut.”

“So, you’re fine with me needing to cut your hair so I can take a look at the cuts caused by the glass shrapnel?”

“Yeah, completely fine, just get it done quick. I’d like to sleep the night away as soon as I can.”

“Ok, um, Derek, could you get me the scissors and go tell Cora she has to sleep, it’s late and she's still awake.”

Derek nods and Stiles watches him go up the spiral staircase to the loft above.

“Are you able to take the shirt off or does it hurt to lift your shoulders up?”

“I think I can take my shirt off, I’ve dealt with bruises more than this,” Stiles slowly slides his shirt above his head, being careful not to move any pieces of glass in his hair.

He takes it off and holds it in his hands, Laura gets up and Stiles assumes she went to get ice. Laura walks back into the living room and she places a bag of ice wrapped in a towel on his back which was red with new bruises scattered everywhere from the top to bottom.

Derek climbs back down, a scissor in his hand and a teenage girl hopped down the stairs behind him.

"I thought I told you to tell Cora to sleep, not bring her down with you."

"But I'm not sleepy," Cora whined.

Derek puts the scissor down on the coffee table and Cora flops down on the couch.

"What do I have to do to make you go to sleep?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Fine, Derek, apply the ice on his back while I go make Cora her hot chocolate."

Derek nods again,  _ he isn't a man of words, _ Stiles thinks. Derek holds onto the bag of ice and continues icing Stiles’ back.

“Soo, do you just to bartending at the gay bar or?”

“I have a day job as a mechanic at George’s Auto garage in Lower Manhattan.”

“So you like cars, huh?”

“Not really, but I’m pretty interested in fixing them. I don’t own one though, yet.”

“I don’t own a car either, you don’t really need one if the work commute is a ten-minute ride in the sub.”

“What do you work as?”

“A fraud analyst at an insurance company.”

“Hmm,” Derek hums, he moves the pack of ice down to ice the bruises on Stiles’ lower back.

Laura walks back in a while later, Cora trailing behind her with a big mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Cora sits back down on the couch and Derek hands the ice pack to her. It was slowly melting and Laura put it down on the coffee table.

“Damn, stranger’s got some hot core body temperature if the ice pack’s that melted,” Cora remarks.

Stiles hears Laura sigh from behind him at Cora. He feels Laura beginning to take out the bigger shards of glass from his head, she slowly takes them out and places them on the coffee table.

“Well, I think that’s all of the big ones, now to find the tiny pieces.”

Laura slowly looks through and picks out the small pieces with a pair of tweezers. Most of the cuts were on the back and top of Stiles’ head, one looked like it had to be stitched up.

“One of the cuts is deep, I’ll need to stitch that up.”

Stiles hums, he was exhausted and was in a  _ can’t-give-a-fuck _ type of mood. Laura uses the scissors and snips the locks around the cuts, rubbing each cut with a cloth dabbed in disinfectant. She gets around to the big cut where she uses a sterilized needle and thread to stitch it up. The back and top of Stiles’ head now had patches of short fuzzy hair amongst the long waves he had.

“I'm sure I look like I escaped a circus now," Stiles said, running a hand through his uneven hair.

"Not if we don't fix it up,” Laura said.

Stiles turns his head to look at Laura from the corner of his eye, Derek was standing with his arms crossed, he was looking at Laura too. Stiles knew what Laura was suggesting.

“First of all, it’s usually me or the same hairdresser who cuts my hair, and second of all, I don’t trust anyone else with it unless they are a hairdresser.”

“How do you think I pay for my college degree?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows in satisfied surprise, “ok, have at it, I guess,” he said as he turned his head back to face front.

Laura leaves the room and Cora loudly sips on her hot chocolate to gain Stiles’ attention.

“Wait until you meet uncle Peter,” she said, leaning forward.

“Uncle who?”

“Peter  _ wherever-the-hell-he-is _ Hale, our uncle.”

Stiles nods, “that middle name alone is interesting in and of itself.”

“He literally will pop in out of the blue here and will either stay for 2 hours or 2 months, there’s no in-between, and then he leaves just as he came with no explanation.”

“That’s not always true, he sometimes calls up when I’m home,” Derek interjects.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re his least-disliked nephew.”

“I think the word you’re finding is favorite?” Stiles asks.

“Nope, he describes it like that, he has no favorites, only dislikes varying from most to least.”

“Derek, no offense, but your family is a  _ Hale-of-a-lot _ .”

Stiles looks over at Derek who was hiding a smile, “I can’t lie, that wasn’t not funny.”

“And that’s another one of those reasons why I’m eligible to become a clown in the circus.”

“Well, you sorta tick all ‘em boxes. Flashy makeup and clothes, weird-ass hair, funny, lowkey mutual pining between you and my brother, it’s the full package,” Cora said, setting the empty cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“I am Not pining for your brother,” Stiles whips his head at Cora,  _ ‘but was that true?’  _ he asked himself.

“Look, stranger, from the few minutes I have sat here, I can firmly say that my brother is pining for you. He literally never brings an adorable brown-eyed puppy like you home unless he has a little crush.”

“I do not have a crush on Stiles,” Derek said, Stiles could see through his lies and couldn’t help but giggle.

“Damn, way to break a guy’s heart, Derek,” Stiles shook his head.

“You’re a horrible liar, Derek.” Laura chimed in as she entered the room, “it’s so easy to tell when you are.”

“How could you say so?”

“You avoid using conjunction words, and your voice becomes shriller than it already is and you lose your calm and composure.”

Derek was dumbstruck, “god damn it, I’m going to get a glass of water.”

Cora coughs, “I think you meant beer. Anyhoo, thanks for the hot chocolate sis, I’m heading to bed as the agreement requires me to.”

Derek turns around to face Cora who smirks at him while he glares at her one more time before heading into the kitchen. She skips upstairs and Stiles was alone with Laura.

“Is every night like this?” Stiles asked Laura.

“Yep, all night, every night.”

“I’d lose my fucking mind if I were you.”

“Nah, the roles rotate every so often, so I’m not the tired older sibling at all times.”

“But still, I can’t imagine a life with siblings.”

“Only child?”

“Yeah,” Stiles played with the hem of his shirt, “my mom died when I was 9, she was sick long before that and she also had trouble getting pregnant. It’s a miracle I was born.”

Laura keeps quiet, as she trims Stiles’ hair.

“Yet here I am, gay and self-deprecative as fuck, which is the opposite of a miracle child.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with being gay,” Laura adds.

“Society begs to differ.”

Laura hums, her hum barely heard as she turned the electric trimmer on. Derek walks in with a can of beer, he stops under the kitchen door frame, leaning against it as he watches and sips on his beer.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at Derek, his smile growing lopsided. Derek looks away, disappearing back into the kitchen. Stiles could see a glimpse of him as he glanced out the kitchen window.

She turns the electric trimmer off and uses the towel which was previously covering a bag of ice to clean off the hairs on Stiles’ neck and shoulder.

“Well, you’ll need to pop back in here after 10 days to get those stitches out, it’ll be better than going to the hospital and getting charged about a thousand to get five measly stitches out.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver, Laura.”

“It’s what I do, Stiles,” she takes a broom that was leaning next to the cupboard on the wall and begins cleaning up the mess.

“Now once you go home, in the morning, ice the shit out of your back, no hot showers in the meantime and just keep on icing it and rest. Oh and stitches, keep it dry for the next 48 hours and no baths, showers only till you get them out.”

“Will do.” Stiles stands up and wears his shirt. He rakes his fingers through his freshly shorn hair as he looks at his reflection on a mirror hung up on the wall.

His makeup was smeared though, looking like he paid a three-year-old to do it. He looks around trying to find something he could wipe his makeup off with.

“Here, I believe you’re looking for this,” Derek approached Stiles from behind and handed him a packet of wet tissues.

“Thanks,” Stiles takes one out of the packet and wipes his makeup off.

It wasn’t going to totally rub off, he needs makeup remover for that but it was muted enough that no one would notice in the middle of the night.

“The buzz cut suits you,” he compliments.

“Well, it’s majorly different from what I looked like 20 minutes ago, but I like it,” Stiles ran a hand through it again, it was that satisfying to do.

“I’ll walk with you, to your house,” Derek said, not really giving any space for Stiles to speak his opinion, not that Stiles was objecting to it.

“Ok, my knight in a leather jacket.”

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles puts the used tissue in the dustbin and they walk to the front door.

“Bye, Laura, thanks again, but I can never thank you enough.”

“Goodnight, Stiles, and you’re welcome,” she waves.

Derek walks out and Stiles follows him. The walk home was silent, the roads were silent and empty, and Stiles felt Derek’s hand brush against his as they walked. The small, seemingly insignificant touch, his heart fluttered and he couldn’t help but crave for more. Derek and Stiles stopped at an intersection, the light was green and late-night buses were passing the road. Stiles felt Derek slowly hold his hand.

Stiles doesn’t stop and actually accepts his hold, softly holding his hand in return. Stiles looks at Derek who was looking forward, his lips curled to a small smile.

The light was still green but nothing was passing the roads, Stiles holding Derek’s hand pulled him as Stiles began to walk on the crosswalk.

“The light isn’t red yet!”

“Do you see any vehicles coming?” Stiles stops in the middle of the empty road, his skirt twisting around even though he stood in place.

Derek looks side to side before looking at Stiles, “I just don’t like taking chances,” he said as he joined Stiles and walked across the road.

“C’mon, I’ll protect you,” Stiles held Derek’s hand firmly as they walked.

Stiles slows down as they approach his apartment building, he goes in the building and Derek follows him up to the second floor.

“Well, this is my apartment, small and quaint, but it’s alright.”

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Night, Derek.”

Stiles and Derek lingered in the hallway for a moment, Stiles wasn’t sure of what he was feeling or what he wanted to do. That was until Derek made a move, leaning forward and kissing Stiles passionately. Stiles was taken aback by how quickly Derek leaped in, but he himself was quick to reciprocate by slowly closing his eyes and kissing back. Lips fought, teeth clashed and lips moved in sync.

Stiles never wanted the kiss to end but, all good moments come to an end. Derek looked down on the floor, he was clearly ashamed.

“Derek, if it’s alright with you, maybe we could have brunch together at this new seafood bar that opened near the coast?”

“Sure, I’d like to go out with you,” he looked back up at Stiles.

“Ok, how about next Saturday, I’ll pop into your house at 11?”

“Yeah, I’ll be waiting.”

Stiles smiles as he unlocks his house door waiting under the doorway, he didn’t want this night to end, but at the same time, he desperately needed to shower.

Derek slowly walked down the stairs and Stiles waved as he went. He slowly closes the door and rests against it.

“Damn, what a night. What a fucking hell of a night that was,” Stiles couldn’t help but say.


End file.
